


clandestine meetings (and longing stares)

by interstellarbeams



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Accidental meeting, Alternate Universe - Regency, Christmas, Do you think I have enough tags yet?, Engagement, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Mild Sexual Content, Mistletoe, Period Typical Attitudes, Typical snarky behavior, immediate connection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Kiara attends a Twelfth Night ball in hopes of meeting a suitable suitor — she hadn’t expected to meet her host’s son when she escapes the ball and some unwanted attention.
Relationships: JJ & Kiara (Outer Banks), JJ Maybank/Kiara Carrera, JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	clandestine meetings (and longing stares)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sara (lemondrizzlecake) for being my beta for this huge thing. Was supposed to be posted for Christmas but I got sidetracked. 🤪
> 
> Probably inspired by my new addiction to Bridgerton (go watch if you haven’t, it’s on Netflix) and my continued interest in the Regency era.
> 
> Title is from _illicit affairs_ by the incomparable Taylor Swift. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! 💕

_And you know damn well  
For you I would ruin myself  
A million little times_

Kiara swallowed hard as she climbed the steps to the large townhouse on one of the more fashionable streets in London. Her palms were damp under her gloves and nervousness cramped in her belly as she followed her parents inside.

The crowds of partygoers warmed the large entryway that was festooned with evergreen boughs and sprigs of holly, its bright red berries a sharp contrast against the voguish pale pink walls. The white pillars supporting the high ceilings drew her eyes upwards towards a sweeping staircase and a gleaming wood banister. Standing at the very top were their hosts for the evening, who greeted every family on the landing after they climbed upwards towards the ballroom. 

Her mother gripped Kie’s arm tightly, her hopes for the evening as tightly wound up in her daughter’s future as her fingers were on the strip of bare skin between her sleeve and the top of her long gloves. 

“Welcome, welcome.” Kie nodded politely at the thin woman and red faced man who were their hosts. The man wobbled in place, his bright cheeks an obvious clue of his imbibing in a holiday toddy or two, and his wife wrapped her arm more firmly around his crooked elbow, her unusually bright eyes tightening at the corners as she flashed a fake smile. 

Kiara was an innocent young woman. An only child who spent more time with her elderly governess than with anyone of her own age. She hadn’t spent much time around men except for her neighbors, who were always perfect gentlemen around her, but she didn’t trust the long look that the Earl gave her (especially when it caught on the bodice of her dress) and she stuck closer to her mother’s side as they moved further into the large home and towards the faint strains of violin music that filtered through the open doorway of the ballroom. 

“Now, Kiara.” Her mother took on a lecturing tone, though her eyes shone bright with the joy of the season. “I want you to be polite and confident. Let everyone see how kind, beautiful and worthy you are. This will attract the most attention of those we want to impress. Smile, darling. It’s a party, after all.”

Kiara thought about reminding her mother that this was more of a chore for her than anything, since she was now on the bridal market and was being forced to find a husband, but she kept her lips tightly sealed and smiled without teeth. 

“Darling, I see the Camerons over there. We shall go and say hello.” Kiara’s mother flashed a smile and took her father’s arm as they moved across the open floor to talk to some old friends, leaving her to stand alone, unchaperoned.

Kie flexed her fingers in her gloves and blew out a breath. Brushing a curl back away from her cheek she turned in a small circle, hoping to find a friendly face so that she wouldn’t be forced to stand along the back wall like a wallflower. That would certainly get her a scolding from her matchmaking mama if she allowed herself to fade into the background. (Technically the season only began in a few months, but that wasn’t going to stop her mother from trying to score her daughter the best possible match available, out of season or not.)

Her searching gaze flitted over the girls who looked about her own age, but they all laughed, formed circles of friendship and closed ranks so that she was locked out. 

She was from the country and hadn’t been to Town many times before, so it was understandable that she was seen as a stranger. Yet Kie couldn’t figure out how she was supposed to make a match if she couldn’t even make friends with girls of her own age. This was proving tougher than she had thought.

She hadn’t realized she had stopped in place, in the center of the crowded floor, until a young gentleman bumped into her shoulder. 

“Oh, excuse me. I’m so sorry.” The boy’s brown eyes were warmer than the candles that flickered around the room and Kie felt immediately comfortable with him.

“Oh no. Pardon me. I was the one standing in the way like a goose.”

The young man huffed out a laugh and brushed a lock of his hair off of his forehead. He glanced over her shoulder towards one of the groups of young women that she had been denied entry to and she realized she had become a human stumbling block for him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I keeping you from someone?” Kie felt a faint stab of disappointment and turned to move away.

“No, _no_. I’m sorry, again.” He reached out a conciliatory hand. “I just— that young lady over there, in the lilac dress… I've been trying to get a dance with her for the entirety of Twelfth Night but she keeps avoiding me. Her name is Miss Sarah Cameron and she has yet to make herself known to me.”

“ _Oh._ ” Kie had thought maybe she had lucked out and found the man she was looking for, by happenstance, but the sadness of his eyes dimmed the brightness that had originally been there and she knew he was already taken, if not formally, then emotionally. “I— I understand. Well, perhaps your persistence will pay off in the long run.”

“I’m Mr. John Routledge. I’m sorry I’ve been so rude to you.”

“I’m Miss Kiara Carrera. And no, I want to thank you for being so kind. Everyone else seems to be avoiding me like I’ve contracted the spanish flu.” 

“Not the spanish flu!” He feigned shock and stepped back, a ready smile on his lips and Kie couldn’t help but laugh along.

Kiara noticed her mother over her new friend’s shoulder and the proprietary gleam in her eyes caused Kie to shake her head, curls tickling against her cheeks. 

“I’ll wish you luck with Miss Cameron. But my mother is looking for me. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas.” 

————

The cold glass of punch in Kie’s hand was refreshing after so many dances, her parched throat and tired feet were enjoying the quiet of the corner where she had hidden herself.

The night was a success. At least, Kie thought so as she had danced every dance and met any number of young men, but her mother wouldn’t see it as so. She hadn’t managed to attract a coveted elite member of the ton and that was the ultimate goal. That, a proposal and marriage to a titled gentleman were at the top of her mother’s list.

“Kiara!” The strident tone of her mother’s voice caused her to whirl around, sending a wave of pink punch over the edge of the cup, splashing the toes of her ivory dancing slippers that peeped out from under her skirt.

“Kiara, what are you doing?” Her mother recoiled, her red curls bouncing at her abrupt movement. “Why are you hiding here? You should be dancing.”

“Mama, I—” Kie had a ready apology on her lips but her mother simply took the glass from her hands, thrust it at a nearby servant, grabbed her by the arm and escorted her towards a more crowded area of the ballroom. 

_She must really be upset, she didn’t even scold me about ruining my expensive dancing slippers._

“Earl Maybank,” she called, and the gentleman they had greeted earlier that evening turned around, a gimlet eyed look already present on his face. Kie stopped abruptly but her mother’s tugging was insistent and the bottoms of her slippers simply slid across the floor as she was made to stand before him. “Have you met my wonderful daughter, Kiara?”

Kie cleared her throat, wondering at her mother’s use of her given name. It was highly improper and her mother was the perfect example of proper behavior, _usually_. 

“Why yes, your _beautiful_ daughter, I had a chance to notice her in the receiving line.” Kie wanted to recoil, to run, to escape, but her mother wouldn’t let her go and it would be rude to leave abruptly in the middle of an introduction. _Blast, society and its strict rules!_

“Earl Maybank,” her mother spoke in a placating voice, with a soft smile that made Kiara want to vomit, “If it isn’t too much trouble… could you escort my daughter around the room? She is tired from so much dancing but I simply cannot allow her to linger in the corner with the wallflowers. Such a beautiful creature must be _seen_ , wouldn’t you agree?” 

“Of course, Lady Carrera, I wholeheartedly agree and would be delighted to escort your daughter.” His lips pressed together abruptly, cheeks puffing out slightly, and Kie had a sneaking suspicion that he was suppressing a belch behind them. _Disgusting._

Kie had no choice but to tuck her hand into his offered elbow. She would have glared daggers at her mother but her anger suddenly turned to nerves, her heart dropping into her stomach and her palms sweating so much she felt they must be dampening her gloves.

The man wasn’t steady on his feet and Kiara couldn’t believe her mother had entrusted her to a lecherous, _drunken_ older man in order to further her own desires. She loved her mother, she really did, but her mother’s ambitions scared her sometimes, and often left her wondering if she even knew just how uncomfortable all the pressure was on her daughter. _Surely she realized how this affected Kiara._

“Miss Carrera, was it?”

Kie nodded, pasting a polite smile on her face as they passed her mother and father who stood with a group of peers their own ages, glasses of port in the gentlemen’s hands. She thought for a quick moment about snatching one of the cut crystal glasses and swallowing the entire contents, but she couldn’t embarrass her mother like that, no matter how desperate she was to escape the earl’s company. 

“How are you enjoying your stay in Town? Have you been introduced at Almack’s? I hope so. It really is the perfect place to become introduced to society.” 

She couldn’t correct him without being rude — _was he really so drunk that he didn’t know it was December and not May?_ — the season hadn’t yet started so Almack’s wasn’t open. She just hummed a noncommittal answer and tried to figure a way out of being in his presence any longer. If only her friend, Mr. Routledge was around to help her, but he was probably caught in the orbit of his lilac-dressed miss. 

His greyish blonde hair looked greasy up close and despite his polite conversation she felt his gaze like a burning ember turned a piece of wood into charcoal. It was uncomfortable, frankly rude, and she dreaded what was next to come out of his mouth. _God save me_ , she thought rather dramatically, though in that moment she had no way of knowing what his real intentions were. She just had a feeling… a glimpse into his wife’s eyes had shown her to be a lonely, lost and abused woman and she didn’t want to be the second act.

————

Kiara had never been at Maybank House before so she had no idea where anything was except the foyer, staircase and now ballroom, so when her escort tried to lead her into a shadowy alcove she dug in her heels. Her carefully manicured nails were put to good use as she scratched a scorching path across the back of his hand so that his powerful grip loosened and she was able to get away. 

His grunt of pain followed her as she escaped, the hallway echoing with the slap of her shoes against hardwood and she slipped through a door whose golden knob turned under her hand. 

The room was chilly, causing goosebumps to immediately erupt along her skin. She could see the glitter of moonlight on snow outside in the garden, the bare branches of the trees stretched towards the bright moon in the sky. Transfixed by the beauty of the view, she stepped to the bay of floor length windows before she realized she would be easily seen as a silhouette if her host considered following her. 

She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her gloved hands up and down her arms as she sunk down into a cushioned wingback chair in front of a dead fireplace. The velvet of the cushions was soft but the fabric offered her no warmth and she shivered. 

Kie hoped that her parents would soon miss her and would come looking for her before she turned into an icicle. Her fingers already felt stiff with the cold and she tucked her legs towards her chest and leaned back in the chair wishing she was anywhere but here.

Her lips trembled as she remembered the man’s attempts at accosting her in the darkness and a single tear dropped down one cheek. Sniffing, she brushed the tear away and set her teeth against her lip in an attempt to halt any more. She wouldn’t let his behavior dictate her emotions. She would remain strong. 

Glancing around for a distraction, she noticed a row of bookshelves lined one wall and a large, intricately formed golden frame hung above the fireplace, but she couldn’t see the subject of the painting. She considered lighting a fire herself but was afraid the light might seep under the door and give her hiding place away so she stayed where she was, resigning herself to the cold of the study. 

She must have dozed for a moment, exhausted after her ordeal and the multiple rounds of dancing, and was woken abruptly by the click of the door shutting. She stifled a gasp and drew her arms and legs in even tighter, attempting to disappear into the dark velvet of the chair. 

The sound of sturdy boots drew closer and she wanted to become invisible before she realized the sound was too steady to be the Earl’s footsteps — he had stunk of alcohol, his eyes red rimmed and his footstep faltering. This wasn’t her attacker. She just hoped, whoever he was, he wasn’t worse.

The strike of a flint lit the darkness above her head and she glanced upwards sharply to see a man above her. She glimpsed a quick flash of blond hair in the light before he faded back into shadow.

“Who do we have here?” he asked, smoothly moving around the chair that she sat in and striking the flint again so that it ignited a sliver of wood that he then held to a small pile of tinder he pulled out of the tinderbox on the mantelpiece. 

“I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be in here.” Kie made to stand up, to leave the room hastily and escape her embarrassment at being caught in one of the family’s personal rooms but her stiff and cold legs wouldn’t obey her and she dropped back against the cushion.

“No need for apologies.” The fire started up, silhouetting the young man from  
behind where he crouched in front of the fireplace. “It’s just curious. A beautiful young woman like you hiding away in this dark room.” 

Kie ignored his comment about her beauty, it was something she had heard plenty of times before, so much so that she felt it had lost all meaning. She was tired of hearing it.

“I’m—“ She found herself attempting to apologize again and she clamped her lips around the sentence. “It’s not proper for us to be alone.”

“Proper? Who said anything about being proper?” He smirked, standing and propping an arm along the top of the mantelpiece that was festooned with a small branch of candles. He moved to light them and as the flames flickered to life she could see the blaze of his golden hair and the bright blue of his eyes.

The portrait hanging above him on the fireplace caught her eye again, and the subject was the spitting image of the man standing before her. That’s when she realized this was Earl Maybank's son. _Oh no._

“You didn’t answer my question,” he drawled, and she found her attention arrested by his blue eyed gaze once again. They were a unique, pale shade of blue that she would have compared to the moonlight glancing off the snow outside, except there wasn’t any coldness there. His gaze wasn’t as happily exuberant as Mr. Routledge’s, but neither was he completely apathetic.

“Pardon me? What question?” Kiara sat up straighter and made sure that her back was no longer touching the chair. His relaxed pose had led her to echo his lackadaisical attitude but she was a lady, and ladies always behaved accordingly. At least that was what her mother kept reminding her. 

He turned to face her, crossing his arms, and she felt a flush of heat in her cheeks at the sight that had nothing to do with the warmth of the freshly lit fire. 

“I asked you what you were doing in here.”

“Oh, I— I was tired and overheated from the dancing and thought I would be able to rest in here without being disturbed.”

He made a noncommittal sound in his throat as he continued to watch her. A drawing room on the lower floor had been designated as a retiring room for the ladies, but she prayed that he wasn’t privy to that information. He seemed like the type to call her out, and she didn’t want to be caught in a lie by her host's son.

Her cheeks continued to burn as he looked her over but she found she didn’t mind his gaze as much as she had his father’s. He seemed more curious than outright threatening and she felt like she could trust him despite his interrogating comments.

“You don’t believe me?”

The warmth of the fire slowly seeped towards her as she sat there, embarrassed but also determined to not show any weakness, by giving into his obvious desire to rile her.

“I didn’t say that.” She had a feeling that if he didn’t stop staring soon she would have no need for the fire, the blush in her cheeks was hot enough to melt the ice frosting the window panes. 

“You didn’t introduce yourself either. I find that rather rude.” Kie struggled not to snap, but she was certain he recognized her frustration and was reveling in it. 

“Rude, am I?” His smile slowly stretched his cheeks and she found herself narrowing her eyes at his cheeky attitude.

She opened her mouth to reply when he stepped closer and clasped his hands behind his back. “I assume you saw the portrait of me above the fireplace. I require no introduction.”

“Oh really?” She scoffed, barely controlling the urge to roll her eyes. She had deducted his name from his appearance in the portrait but it was rather inappropriate of him to assume an acquaintance without introducing himself. “Well, unless that portrait can learn to speak, I still don’t know your name, _sir_.” 

“James Maybank, Viscount of Easthaven, at your service.”

_A viscount? That’s right. She had forgotten._

Her mother’s chatter about the Earl and the Viscount on the carriage ride over had gone in one ear and out the other. Kie had been too nervous to pay attention and had clung to her father’s hand, tension tightening the muscles in her shoulders and starting a headache that still faintly throbbed in her temples. 

“And you are?” He sat down in the chair that sat catty corner to hers, flipping his coattails out before he sat down, his attention zeroing in on her face.

Kie flushed at being caught daydreaming. 

Swallowing quickly, she offered him her hand and murmured a polite response, as polite of one as she _could_ give when he was watching her so closely. 

“Miss Carerra. Daughter of Sir Michael and Lady Anna Carrera.” She struggled to remember a connection and settled upon their neighbors back home in the country. “We’re close family friends of the Heywards. I believe you know them.”

“Of course. Pope Heyward and I are rather close, to be honest. Just saw him yesterday at White’s.”

Kiara struggled not to roll her eyes, of course he would visit White’s. He more than likely visited daily to gamble away his fortune. He probably needed a wealthy bride, someone to boost his family’s standing, someone who could offer him a very extensive dowry. Someone unlike her. 

She felt a strange twinge of disappointment at that. _How silly._

She glanced down at her gloved fingers, clasped in her lap, surprised that he wasn’t the type to fill the silence with idle self-centered chatter like so many of the other members of the peerage she had met. It was nice after the rumble of chatter and the thrum of music in the ballroom. 

The flames crackled in the fireplace, the sound reminding her of cozy evenings at home with her parents in their own drawing room, reading a new book, while her mother embroidered and her father smoked his pipe. No matter how the cold winter wind blew outside, sitting inside by the fire would always make her feel comfortable and at home. Maybe that’s why she found herself opening up to him.

“It’s not often that I find myself wandering outside of the ballroom at a party.” She glanced over at him and then away when she realized he was watching her, his unwavering blue gaze so sharp she felt like he could see into her soul. “I’m not imposing on your solitude, am I? If so, I can leave.” 

“No. No.” His voice came out low and she felt a shiver flow through her that had nothing to do with the temperature in the study. “It’s nice, actually. I’m used to spending a lot of time alone. And to have company, a companion even, makes me feel a little less lonely.”

Kie hadn’t expected him to speak so frankly. To open his heart and say something so personal to her. She decided it must have cost him a lot, to reveal his innermost thoughts and feelings to her: a woman he had just met.

“I understand. I love my parents, but spending my whole life at our country estate and having no female acquaintances near... it’s a hard thing to feel lonely.”

James shifted, leaning his elbows onto his knees and glanced over at her from underneath his bangs that hung into his eyes. There was no wax or pomade in his hair, unlike so many men that had twirled her around the ballroom this evening. It looked soft and she found herself wondering just how soft… how much she would love to run her fingers through it. She cleared her throat awkwardly, preparing to push herself up from the chair and leave but then he was speaking again. 

“It’s been the same for me. I certainly live in town more than I do the country, but sometimes even surrounded by so many friends, acquaintances and even strangers at a gathering like this or at White’s... it can feel like I am an island of my own making. It’s hard, yet somehow harder still to allow yourself to be known so well that loneliness is not a reality.” 

Kiara allowed herself to ponder this. Yes, it was frightening to be open and show your whole self to someone else. It was certainly a risk. They could reject you, or decide that what you were willing to give wasn’t enough. Trust was an unfamiliar concept to some people but she knew if she ever wanted to marry and it not be a catastrophe, orchestrated by her mother and father, then she would have to open herself up to being known. It was nerve wracking but certainly not as scary as facing down a viscount and verbally sparring with him. 

“I think you’re right. It’s scary but in the end… it has to be worth it, right? Because then you know that person will stay. There are no skeletons hanging in the closet that you don’t know about, or a secret mistress that will one day surprise you. That is, if that person is also trustworthy.”

James hummed under his breath, one finger lingering along his upper lip as he thought. Despite herself, she found her attention drawn to it and the plump lip underneath.

She mentally scolded herself for becoming distracted and in such an indecent way. She attempted to focus her attention on what he was saying instead. It was a serious conversation and she knew that if she failed to give a listening ear now, she may never hear from him again. She felt that he needed this time of confession, that it would help him, so she forced her attention back to their conversation.

“Trust hasn’t ever been easy for me,” he finally replied. His head turned towards her but there was a faraway look in his eyes as he spoke and she knew he must have been reliving some past trauma. 

She found that she wanted to carry that burden for him, to ease it anyway she could. Strange, when she had just met him, but the warmth of the fire, darkness of the room around them and companionship made her feel safe. Something she hadn’t felt since she entered his home, running from one uncomfortable situation to another until she was panicked like a hare trying to escape the hounds on a hunt. 

“I don’t know if you know my father or have even met him. He’s not the type to expect too much of me, but I know that if I don’t succeed in helping our family retain the status that our title has bestowed upon us, I will forever be marked as a failure. I don’t give a _damn_ , excuse me, care for my father’s role in all this but my mother… she’s put up with so much and she deserves to retire to her dowager house before my father’s drunkenness and whoring drives her into an early grave.” 

A tinge of fear shot across Kie’s nerve endings at his description of his father and she urgently tried to push away the recent image of his attempts to take advantage of her. James’ comments dragged her back to that place where she had felt so little control and agency. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked, concern wrinkling his forehead and she was afraid he had seen the sudden fear cross her face.

“Nothing. I—” She turned her head, curls tickling at her neck as she stared into the fireplace. 

“It’s hardly fair for you to lie to me when I’ve been so open with you. I saw that flash of fear in your eyes. What is it?” 

He was sitting next to her one moment and the next thing she knew he was kneeling in front of her, the warmth of his bare hands seeping through the cool silk of her gloves and causing her heart to race quickly. 

She lifted her gaze to his, a sharp exhale of breath puffing out of her, to find his face so close to hers. 

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Your father…” Kie was too ashamed to speak aloud what his father had tried to do to her. It seemed unfair to bring it up, not for his father’s case, but to tell his son what a dastardly character he was. She felt for James, growing up with a father such as him.

“Miss Carrera. Believe me when I tell you that nothing you can say about my father would surprise me. Please, unburden yourself, if not for your own well being, then for me. As your host, I require it.” A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth and a twinkle of humor lit in his eyes and she huffed out a breathy laugh at his attempt to make her smile. 

Surprisingly, it worked. Instead of making her feel inconsequential, he had asked for her true feelings to be revealed, validating her.

“He tried to take advantage of me… my mother thought I was trying to avoid any more dancing, when I was simply taking a break to sip some punch, and forced me to promenade with your father. He— he tried to drag me into an alcove, out of sight of everyone else. I— I don’t want to be that person who— who gossips about someone else but… I was so frightened.” Her voice broke and she bit her lip trying to hold in a sob. 

James’s blue eyes were large and serious as he watched her and his concern made her even more emotional. _Strange._

“This isn’t gossip, Miss Carrera. I asked you a question and you simply answered it. And truthfully, I don’t find your story too far fetched. My father is a wretch and a drunk. He isn’t to be trusted, especially when it comes to a young lady’s virtue.” 

Kiara ducked her head, sniffling on tears that she had told herself she wouldn’t shed, but this young man’s care had allowed her to open up, something that she didn’t often have the chance to do. 

“Look, I’m sorry this happened to you. Honestly, if I wasn’t so set on being a perfect gentleman right now, I would stalk down this hallway and find my father in order to deck him. But I’m not going to do that, because you need me to be here with you.”

Kie glanced up sharply, swallowing hard as the flickering firelight lit his hair from behind and gave him a golden halo — like he was an archangel bent on exacting revenge just for her. But he had just told her that he wasn’t going to fight her battles for her… so maybe not her avenger, but her hero all the same. 

“Thank you. I— just want to… _thank you_ ,” she whispered, allowing herself to clasp his hand tightly. 

“No need to thank me.” His seriousness suddenly turned as he stood and offered her his hand. 

Kiara knew it was probably a bad idea to continue to stay, alone, in this room with this man — her reputation could be ruined, but she didn’t care as his eyes twinkled at her even in the dimness.

The strains of the music couldn’t be heard this far away from the ballroom but she didn’t need any music as his hand settled against her lower back and she tentatively placed her fingers against the dark fabric of his coat. 

The area in front of the fireplace was cluttered with chairs, a side table and a coal shuttle, so he led her towards the open space in front of the windows.

The white moonlight shone brightly on the floor, leaving patches of darkness that crossed his face, but she didn’t even notice as she stared into his eyes and they danced around the room. No sounds to be heard except the crackle of the fire and the steady thrum of her heartbeats in her ears.

Moonlight, dancing and dark rooms were certainly aspects in the romances she had read over the years. Books her mother would not approve of her reading, but the upstairs maid frequently left novels behind on Kiara’s bed, secretly, knowing that she was obsessed with reading such delicious books. 

Staring into his eyes she forgot all about their surroundings, ceased to remember the whole reason she had been escorted to the party — to find the perfect, _titled_ match and become someone’s wife just because it was what was done — or what had led her to escape into the study. She wasn’t even sure if she remembered to breathe, as the warmth of his hand on her back seeped through the thinness of her dress and caused frissons of awareness across her whole body, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. It left a prickling sensation along her scalp, caused her ears to burn despite the chill that still existed in the room and she was sure that her palms were sweating under her evening gloves. 

“I really didn’t want to come here tonight. I honestly was dreading it — nervous stomach, headache… even my palms were sweating. Then I met a young man who was kind to me and I thought maybe not all was lost — but it turned out he had eyes for another young lady. I was faintly disappointed but I swallowed my nerves and danced all the dances. But then my mother had to force me to walk with your father and I— I wasn’t happy, I was pretending that all was well when I really wanted to run. I could never expect that that horrible moment would lead me to meet someone like you.” 

Kiara clamped her lips together, suddenly realizing she had been chattering for a few minutes, uninterrupted. Like all of those silly girls she had met in the ballroom, sounding like a bunch of ceaseless magpies. But he didn’t seem to be annoyed, simply amused. And she swallowed hard, wondering how he would reply to her declaration.

“Well, I want to tell you that I didn’t plan on attending the ball tonight for the same reason as you. I didn’t want to find a match like my mother has been pestering me to do, so I left and spent the night at my club instead, but I found it boring and tedious. Maybe I am ready to become committed, but not to some simpering miss that my mother chooses — maybe there is a curly-haired young lady with becoming brown eyes who could tempt me.” 

Kiara would have demurred but she had no earthly idea how to do so, so she stopped, drawing him into stopping their dance, and looked up at him. 

“After just these few moments, you would commit to _me_?”

He dropped his hand from her back and she missed his closeness suddenly. James crossed his arms on his chest and stared her down, blue eyes as arresting as his presence. 

“I believe marriages have been attempted with less auspicious beginnings — drawn up through contract without either party having met. I don’t see how this could be worse.”

“We barely know each other… what if you hate the way I eat soup or can’t stand to sleep with someone who puts their cold feet on you?” 

“Then we won’t eat soup, my cook knows plenty of recipes and besides, if you have cold feet, I’ll just warm you up,” he insinuated with a smirk, eliciting a blush in her cheeks that she couldn’t suppress. 

Kiara felt her mouth drop open in shock, mouth gaping as she attempted to think of some kind of response, but he had her so flustered she couldn’t think straight.

He stepped closer, his warm hands reaching out to settle on the bare skin of her arms that weren’t covered by her gloves. “I believe I should know your first name before I decide though. What if you're Prudence or Ernestine, I don’t think I could live with that for however many years we have together.”

Kie felt she should be offended that he would be so shallow to throw her over on a name, but her heart was racing and her skin was warming to his touch so that she could barely remember what her name was in that moment. 

He ducked his head so close that his bangs tickled her forehead and she couldn’t breathe because of his proximity. 

“You’re not going to tell me?” he asked, and she realized that he had an enchanting dimple in one cheek that was really unfair. 

“I— I, well, I’m…” Kiara’s tongue felt clumsy and unwieldy, probably the same way she would feel if she was forced to attempt to use a fencing sword. How attractive she must seem, like a fish out of water as she tried to remember the name her parents had given her twenty years ago. 

“You’re…?” He dragged out the word like he was attempting to draw it out of her and she had the sudden urge to smack him but quelled it — she didn’t want him to change his mind. He may be entirely infuriating but she considered that she wouldn’t be able to settle with any other man after meeting him. He was it.

She didn’t know how her parents would react to her becoming a wife to a viscount, and she didn’t want to think about being related to his father, the Earl, in any capacity, but she figured she could get over it if she had James as her husband. She felt like maybe she could get through anything with him by her side. 

“My name is Kiara. Kiara Elizabeth Carrera.”

“Kiara,” he repeated softly, like he was savoring her name on his tongue as he would a tasty biscuit at tea time. She had to force herself to look away from his lips that tempted her to press her own to them. “As beautiful a name as the lady who possesses it.” 

“Now you’re just trying to flatter me,” Kiara teased, happy to see a smile brighten his irises. 

“Oh, If I was teasing you, you would know it.” His eyes darkened from what they had been a minute or so ago when the grandfather clock next to the door suddenly started chiming. 

“Oh no! Is it really that late?” Kie turned to look at the clock before glancing around the shadowy room. Surely her parents had come to miss her by now, they would be frantic, and her mother had probably sent the servants out on a search for her. It was a wonder they hadn’t found her and James, if in fact they had been sent out. “I should go… I don’t want to create a scandal.”

He reached out a hand and grasped ahold of her wrist and she was forced to stop with her arm extended between them. 

“Nevermind a scandal. I would marry you tonight, if I could,” he murmured, glancing down at where he held her hostage, then back up at her face. His eyes vulnerable beneath the fall of his hair. 

Kie’s heart leapt in her chest and she considered staying, reputation be damned, but her mother would have an absolute fit and she did not want to face her livid face. Though her mother probably would enforce society’s rules— to have her marry in haste. She didn’t know what to do or where to go. Her heart battling her mind, her feelings for him fighting her conscience.

“I really should go… I— I enjoyed meeting you tonight. You were a bright spot in what has been an otherwise dreary season.” 

“I could say the same about you, except you have become like a lighthouse beacon in the turbulent ocean of my life.” 

She turned to go, the release of his hand rending her heart like a sword strike. She opened the door to leave when he called to her.

“Kiara?”

“Yes?” She glanced behind her to find that he had followed her, one hand braced against the doorway above her head. 

“It seems fate won’t let you escape me so easily.”

“I— what? What do you mean?” She peered up at him, for she could see no reason why he should say such a thing. 

He gestured upward with a lazy hand and she gaped to see a bunch of mistletoe above their heads. She hadn’t noticed it there earlier when she had escaped into the room, probably because she hadn’t been thinking about anything but getting away from her attacker.

“You can’t be serious,” she whispered, “If someone were to see us kiss, I would be ruined.”

“Why, Kiara, I can’t believe you would ignore the traditions of the mistletoe kiss, and with your host’s son, no less?”

Kie groaned, clenching her hands in her skirts but she would be lying if she hadn’t already wondered what his lips would taste like, how they would feel pressed up against hers.

He must have seen the warring emotions in her eyes for his hand dropped to her shoulder, thumb teasing against the edge of her dress’s neckline. She released a shuddering breath, shocked at the feelings his touch was invoking. 

_Bloody hell_ , she thought, rather unladylike, as she found herself wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and reaching up on her tiptoes so that he wouldn’t have to bend so far.

Their lips met and she lost herself in the touch and feel of him, ignoring the warning bells that sounded in her head. Nothing could compare to this. 

“So… about that engagement.” His lips crooked up on one side and she had the urge to kiss him again, but knew that he would become too smug if she did. 

“I rather think that you have not asked me.” She smiled, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 

“Well, I shall remedy that then. Miss Carrera, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Why, yes, I believe I will.” She laughed as his arms went around her and she was lifted off the ground to twirl across the expanse of floor where they had had their impromptu dance.

It was the quickest engagement in the history of engagements, her mother would later proclaim to anyone and everyone who would listen. Her daughter was to become a viscountess, and what mother could ask for more for her precious daughter. 

Kiara thought she couldn’t ask for more either, though her mother’s plan hadn’t gone exactly as she had intended. For Kiara’s escape from an earl had led her straight into a viscount’s arms.


End file.
